Weathered staff, muddy boots, broken time-piece, rugged coat, fiddle, pencil stub, yellowed pages, old photograph, parched wine-skin, coffee beans & dry flowers...scribblings of a wandering gypsy.
Yes, this is the place where I scribble all my thoughts in the form of poetry.

Thursday, November 12, 2009

Again, an attempt at something different :) I've tried to capture the New York nightlife of the yesteryears. The kind of nightlife that I've only read in books written by American authors like O.Henry. His 'The Cop and the Anthem' being a perfect example of that. This poem is dedicated to O.Henry, the man who introduced me to the beautiful world of witty short stories with the characteristic O.Henry twist ending :)

Shielding maddening spheres of life,Idling melancholic needles of time,Dwindling stress in remote corners behind,Whistled away blues in the jazz of a pub.

And the twist in the end would have made O.Henry proud. There couldn't have been a better dedication to the great man! You've captured the important elements of his story here: the New York life, the twist in the end. Good job.

Wow. I had to really slow down to appreciate this. Very nice. Beautiful feeling throughout. The twist ending saddened me a bit. Ah, a kiss from an angel, I'd have just handed her anything she wanted. I'd have just been disappointed she didn't ask.

About Coffee Beans and Dry Flowers...

Coffee Beans and dry flowers,A spent candle and ashes in the fireplace; Coffee lying stale in a chipped mug,And a table cloth that was once white,Edged with frayed lace.A window pane that is cracked,Climbers lying uncared for on the sill,A raging storm beyond it,But here my world stands still.

A bulb in the corner, at times flickering,And a radio sometimes crackles...But registers nothing.

But somewhere amidst all of this, I wait...While penningmy thoughts on yellowed pages,Random scribblings of a wandering gypsy perhaps,Waiting for my vagrant soul to find a home,Waiting for my hand to be held and grasped.

Yes, this is the place where I scribble all my thoughts in the form of poetry.

About Me

Have you ever stopped to stare at roadside flowers? Run around on dewy grass on early spring mornings? Enjoyed the musty smell of frayed pages of old books? Smiled back at strangers? Ever felt like walking back home in the rain? Stopped whatever you were doing to listen to your favourite song on the radio? Ever strained your ears to hear silence? Become teary eyed during mushy scenes in movies? Ever called up long lost friends for no apparent reason? Wanted to believe in something that cannot be explained? Ever loved? Been loved? ever lain spread eagled on the terrace, counting the wishes amidst the phosphorescent sea of a million stars overhead, wondering whether yours was somewhere among those waves too?
See, I told you…you know me…